Motorcycles, Sushi & One Strange Book

by Nancy N. Rue

  “You aren’t going to show me any mercy, are you?” he said.

  “None. Here’s my question.” I sucked in a breath. “How much is Lou paying you to babysit me?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “He called it being my ‘personal guide,’ but it’s the same thing.”

  “You think he’s making me hang out with you?”

  “I may be a ditz-queen, but, come on–”

  “Nothing,” he said. His voice was a little stiff. “He isn’t paying me anything.”

  “What is it that you owe him, then?”

  “You only get one question.”

  “That’s okay,” I said. “I’ll ask that next time. And there will be a next time.”

  “Whatever.” He refolded his arms. “My turn.”

  I pulled in my chin. “What? I didn’t put you down!”

  “Yeah, you did. Here’s my question: why don’t you like living with Lou? Anybody in our youth group would sell their little sister to spend that much time with him, and you act like you’re on death row.”

  “Youth group?”

  “Yeah. At church. He’s our youth leader–only Hank is doing it right now because Lou’s taking time off from us to be with you. And you, like, blow him off half the time. What’s up with that?”

  “Lou’s the youth group leader?”

  “Quit stalling, Red. What’s your deal?”

  I couldn’t see a way out of giving him an answer. If I said he was a jerk and it was none of his business, then I’d have two questions to deal with.

  “Okay,” I said. “I don’t want to be here because it isn’t my home.”

  “So, you’re, like, close to your mom, then?”

  “Not that close, no.”

  “You have a boyfriend in Birmingham.”

  “No.”

  “You’ve got a job there where you make money–you live on the beach–you ride on a Harley every day–”

  “Uh, no.”

  “You’ve got somebody back there that totally gets you.”

  “No! And that’s way more than one question.”

  Rocky put his hands behind his head, still leaning against the wall. It made his muscles look even bigger. “You still haven’t answered the first one–not with the truth anyway. If you don’t have any of that stuff back there and you have it all here, why is that better than this?”

  “Because back there I could just be whatever and nobody cared, okay? They just left me alone!”

  I swallowed and blinked and started to turn away. Rocky grabbed my wrist.

  “I’m sorry, Red,” he said. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

  “I’m not crying.”

  “I just don’t get it, that’s all. Alone with nobody caring about you–I don’t see that being a better deal.”

  “That’s because you’ve never been there,” I said.

  “Yeah, I have,” he said. “And I’m never goin’ back.” He dropped my wrist and peeled himself away from the wall. “You want ice cream?”

  “No,” I said.

  “I don’t think you know what you want, so we’re getting ice cream. And I’m buying.” He put his gleamy green eyes close to mine. “Not Lou. Me.”

  I had mint chocolate chip that day.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  So do you want to see how this is done or what?” Bonsai said to me Friday morning.

  I stopped wiping off soy sauce bottles for the tables and stared at him.

  “Is that a yes?” he said.

  Behind me, Rose giggled.

  “You’re not afraid I’m going to give somebody indigestion?” I said.

  Bonsai grunted. “I didn’t say I was going to let you do it, I just asked if you want to see how I do it. You haven’t broken anything in three days. I figure it’s safe.”

  I could feel the corners of my mouth going up to my earlobes. Who knew I’d ever get excited about watching somebody roll raw fish up in sticky rice and seaweed?

  “Are you serious?” I said.

  Bonsai gave me a blank look. “I don’t joke about the art of sushi,” he said.

  “You don’t joke about anything,” I said.

  Oops.

  But I saw Bonsai snuff out a smile. “Stand right there, next to Rose. Watch. Learn.”

  I had wondered more than once how Rose could stand just out of Bonsai’s elbow range for, like, hours, perfectly still, without saying anything. Now I was going to have to do it.

  Once Bonsai flattened the fish, though–and then pulled out a ball of rice and pressed it onto the fish and put the whole thing on the little bamboo mat, I kind of forgot about myself. The avocado bits went on next, and then he rolled it all up in the mat–the whole time dipping his hands into a pot of water to clean off his fingers. He moved fast, but soft at the same time, like he respected the fish he was serving up to eat. No wonder he was always telling me not to bruise it. I wondered if it was a piece of something I’d cleaned or picked out at the fish market. Weird how I felt like I was part of the whole process. That feeling didn’t happen to me often.

  Bonsai took the roll out of the mat and cut it into slices and arranged it on one of the wooden boats with a couple of curls of ginger and a dab of wasabi.

  “Lunch,” he said to me, and put it into my hands. “And don’t let me catch you eating this with a fork.”

  “What’s this one called?” I said.

  Bonsai looked at Rose, who bowed, naturally.

  “Eel and avocado roll,” she said.

  “Eel!” I said. I wanted to add, “Gross! I’m not eating that slimy stuff!”

  But they were both looking at me as if I were about to take some kind of test. It was one I really didn’t want to fail.

  “Sounds yummy,” I said.

  And it actually was. It was sweeter than any of the other rolls I’d had. I scarfed down the whole thing.

  “That was fab,” I said to Bonsai.

  He crinkled his disappearing eyes at my plate. “You eat like your father. Get that boat cleaned and put away and get ready.”

  “For what?” I said. “I’ve got all the chopsticks and napkins rolled. All the fish and veggies are chopped. I even made sure there are paper towels in the bathrooms. We ran out yesterday.”

  His face was blank. “You through?” he said.

  “Yes.”

  “Then put on a clean apron. You’re serving today. Rose will take the orders–you’ll do the rest.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Don’t I look serious?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “But, then, you always do.”

  I smiled at him. He almost smiled back.

  I was pretty nervous at first. I was sure I was going to dump a bowl of miso soup in some biker’s lap or drop a boat full of Futomaki, which was Bonsai’s specialty and took the longest to make because he did these very-cool designs in it with dyed rice.

  But the vampire bats in my stomach disappeared as I found out what happened when I placed a wooden bridge of Umeboshi plum rolls and Futomaki on a table. The HOGs– Harley Owners Group members, Lou had told me–sat back and made grumbling noises in their throats and said things like:

  “You are an angel from heaven, girl.”

  “Look at this–I’m a happy dude.”

  “Now all we need is a little more wasabi. You think you could come up with some, Miss Jessie?”

  Not only did I come up with some, I took a spoon and shaped it into a rose in its little bowl, the way Bonsai did his garnishes. Okay, completely weird, but I felt like I’d just completed the Mona Lisa or whatever that painting was we studied in art class.

  “Would you look at that?” one of the bikers said when I set it on the table.

  “That’s actually cool, Red.”

  My head jerked up and I found myself looking right into Rocky’s gleamy-green eyes. I could feel the red seeping into my cheeks, and there wasn’t a thing I could do about it.

  “Did she do that just for yo
u, Oswald?” said one of the larger bikers in a bright-blue bandana.

  “Who’s Oswald?” I said.

  Another guy, ultra-skinny and wearing an earring, put his arm around Rocky’s shoulders. “You didn’t know your man’s real name is Oswald?”

  “Are you serious?” I said.

  “Shut up, man,” Rocky said. His face was now a whole lot redder than mine, I was sure.

  “Well,” I said. “Good to know.”

  I flashed Rocky a smile, and he gapped his teeth at me, eyes still all glittery and gleamy. My face then passed him on the redness scale. I could feel it from the inside out.

  “Watch it now,” Rocky said, still grinning. “Watch it.”

  A loud chorus of “Oooh!” went up from the table. Rose tapped my arm and I had to follow her back to the kitchen for another order.

  “You make the customers happy,” she said to me. And I could have sworn she winked at me.

  We were packed that day and I loved it. Bonsai couldn’t give me bridges and boats and plates full of rolls fast enough, and I sailed to the tables without dropping a single one or getting anybody’s order mixed up. It was delicious for me. Until the door opened, and Lou walked in with Weezie.

  I darted back to the kitchen and almost ran into Rose, who was holding a square platter of nigiri jumbo shrimp.

  “Table two,” she said.

  “You do it,” I said. “I’ll drop it or something.”

  A tiny line appeared between her even tinier eyebrows. “You not drop anything all day.”

  “I’m about to,” I said. “Please–I’ll mess something up.”

  For once she didn’t smile, and she didn’t bow. “No,” she said. “You start. You finish.” She pushed the platter into my hand. “Table two. You can.”

  I knew all the color had drained from my face as I took the platter and headed for table two. Rocky’s table.

  “Here she is!” Earring Guy said. “Put it right in front of me, darlin’.”

  “She’s a keeper, Oswald.” Blue Bandana twinkled his eyes at me. “How much is it worth to you to know his full name?”

  “Whatever it is I’ll pay double,” Rocky said.

  “You could make some serious money off of this, Wally,” another guy said.

  They laughed and dug into the shrimp, and I turned to go without looking in the direction of table four, where Lou and Weezie were snuggled up over the menu together. Rocky curled his fingers around my wrist and pulled me down so he could whisper in my ear.

  “You’re doing awesome,” he said. “Don’t let some ten-year-old mess you up.”

  I got a lump in my throat, but I still managed to whisper back, “Okay.”

  I collected the empty platters and took them back to the kitchen and picked up an order of Tekkamaki for the grandparenty couple by the window who looked a little freaked out by the two tables of HOGs.

  “The food is great,” the man said to me as I put it down between them.

  His wife glanced at table two. “I’m so surprised that these men eat sushi,” she said, in a too-loud voice. That must have been because of the hearing aid in her ear.

  “They’re the whole reason this is here,” I said. “My dad got tired of eating hamburgers and french fries, and he loves sushi. He built the restaurant so he could have California rolls whenever he wanted.”

  I felt the smile returning to my face. Lou had told me the story one night over supper, but it was the first time I got to tell it to somebody else.

  “Your dad is the owner?” the man said.

  “That’s him right over there,” I said.

  I turned and pointed, just as Lou and Weezie both looked up at me from the form they were filling out to order their sushi. Lou smiled and gave a little wave. Weezie narrowed her eyes until they looked like little dashes in her face.

  “Then that must be your sister,” the grandmother-lady said–loud enough for not only Weezie but the whole restaurant to hear. “She looks just like you.”

  “She’s just my half sister,” Weezie said–in that voice that made her sound like a dead ringer for a seagull.

  Lou put his hand on her arm and she sat back in her chair, and I thought she was done. I looked at Rocky. He shook his head at me.

  “Can I get you anything else?” I said to the grandparents.

  “How about some jasmine tea?” the woman half shouted.

  “I can do that,” I said.

  I made it to the kitchen before I doubled my fists and did a silent scream. What was Weezie doing here? This was my place to share with Lou–

  I caught myself and listened to that thought shout in my head. Until Rose touched my arm and said, “They want tea?”

  I was about to beg her to please serve it herself–and then I remembered Rocky whispering, “You’re doing awesome.” Saw him shaking his head at me. Heard Rose saying, “You start. You finish. You can.”

  “Jasmine,” I said to her.

  She nodded and bowed and smiled and set me up a tray. I took a deep breath and carried it halfway across the dining room, and then I stopped.

  Weezie was standing at the grandparents’ table.

  I looked for Lou. He was bent over table two, laughing with Earring Guy and Wally and Rocky–obviously unaware that his princess was chatting it up with the customers. My customers.

  I took the tea tray to the table and stopped behind Weezie.

  “Excuse me,” I said between my teeth.

  She took about two steps to the side, but she didn’t move away completely, which meant I had to hold the tray at a weird angle to get it on the table. I managed to do it without spilling it, but I couldn’t pull off a smile at the same time.

  “Wow, you did that good, Jessica,” Weezie said–too sweetly.

  “Jessica,” Grandmother-Lady shouted. “Now, that’s a pretty name.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “I see you’ve met Louisa.”

  “Now those are good names,” Grandfather-Man said.

  He went on about how people needed to give their children the good old-fashioned names instead of all this yuppie nonsense parents were saddling their kids with–while I poured the tea and Weezie gave me eyeballs hairy enough to make a wig.

  “And you’re right, Louisa,” Grandmother-Lady said. “Your sister does do a good job with the tea.”

  “Which is amazing,” Weezie said. “Since she has ADHD.”

  Hot water sloshed onto my fingers and I dumped a half-full cup over on the tray. Grandfather-Man went after it with a napkin, but his wife didn’t seem to notice.

  “ADHD,” she shouted. “Now what is that?”

  “It means Jessica is hyperactive,” Weezie shouted back– not so the deaf woman could hear her, but so that the entire restaurant would get the news.

  I set the teapot down too hard and more hot liquid spurted from the spout onto Grandfather-Man’s hand. Rose rushed over with several dozen napkins and bowed and didn’t smile, and the grandparent-people both said it was fine, all fine, no harm done. Lou appeared and marched Weezie out the front door, and everybody else went back to their sushi and soup.

  Except Rocky. I could feel him watching me. But I didn’t look back. I brushed past him on my way to the kitchen where I untied my apron.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Bonsai said. He was standing in the doorway with his hands drippy from the water pot.

  “I don’t think I can serve anymore today,” I said.

  “Why not?”

  “You didn’t see me just spill hot tea on that guy?”

  “Who hasn’t? Get back to work.”

  “I can’t.”

  “You can. You start. You finish.”

  By the time I got myself back to the dining room, table two was gone, including Rocky. The grandparents were paying their bill, and Lou and Weezie were nowhere to be seen. But the fun had gone out of serving sushi. Maybe it had gone out of everything–because the ADHD demon was never going to leave me alone.

  I wo
uld have given up my cell phone for a visit from Yeshua right then. I’d drop all this fish and take off with him and do the new job, whatever it was, and follow him. At least he didn’t expect people to be perfect.

  I choked back tears and cleared tables, and somehow got through the afternoon by promising myself I’d go back to the RL story as soon as I got home. It was the only place that was safe.

  There was no way I was meeting Rocky in our usual place by the motorcycle trees that afternoon. I stayed inside and rolled enough chopsticks and napkins to feed most of Japan and scrubbed the bamboo mats until the string came off one of them. Bonsai was probably going to fire me now–who wanted a crazy chick working in their restaurant?–so I might as well leave the place clean. I was picking up grains of uncooked rice off the floor, one by one with my fingers, when a shadow fell across me from somebody in the doorway.

  “That’s what they make brooms for, Red,” Rocky said.

  “You’re not allowed in the kitchen,” I said.

  “Then how come Rosie let me in?”

  I looked up. His eyes weren’t gleamy. They were soft. Like he felt sorry for me.

  “Come on,” he said. “Let’s go for a walk.”

  “No,” I said to the floor. “I’ve got stuff to do.”

  “Liar. Come on. I know a place we can talk.”

  Talk was the last thing I wanted to do. But what good did it do me, really, to refuse to go with him? Lou was making him pay back some kind of debt he owed him, only now there was probably nothing that was going to make this worth it for Rocky.

  “Come on,” he said again and put his hand out.

  I pushed it away and stood up on my own, but I didn’t look at him. Nobody said I had to watch him change from flirty to “poor baby.”

  Neither one of us said that much until we crossed Avenida Menendez and headed toward Matanzas Bay–the one that Lou and I went over every day on the bridge. A high wall ran along it, wide enough to sit on. Rocky sat and patted the stone for me to join him. I only did it because it was a great place to swing your legs, and I needed some serious leg swinging. But I sat as far away as I could without him calling Lou to say I was trying to escape.

  “The little Weezer has a mouth bigger than the state of Florida,” Rocky said.

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” I said.